


till peace i can find

by coffeecrowns



Series: bones in the ocean [2]
Category: Rusty Quill Gaming (Podcast)
Genre: 18-Month Time Gap (Rusty Quill Gaming), Cuddling & Snuggling, Engagement, Horses, Idiots in Love, M/M, Misunderstandings, Multi, Mutual Pining, Pre-Relationship, Tropes, Well - Freeform, its an idiot plot but can you blame me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-01
Updated: 2020-10-01
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:20:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,868
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26743519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coffeecrowns/pseuds/coffeecrowns
Summary: Wilde and Zolf have braved the end of the world, terrible weather, and each other, and have a single, relatively short ride before they will be able to set up a proper safehouse in Japan.Except there's only one horse.(Not to mention all the other misunderstandings)
Relationships: Zolf Smith & Oscar Wilde, Zolf Smith/Oscar Wilde
Series: bones in the ocean [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1946710
Comments: 17
Kudos: 88





	till peace i can find

**Author's Note:**

> I really don't have any explanation for this one. I had a stupid idea and then put feelings in it until we got here.

Zolf, as both a dwarf and an individual, was not meant to ride horses. Even in a region run by gnomes which catered to his smaller stature, which he appreciated in theory, he did not care for horseback riding. He had joined the navy for a reason. And as much as he didn’t fulfill dwarven stereotypes, this one is there for a gods damned reason. Of course, that couldn’t be the only factor, because certainly not built to share a horse with Oscar Wilde. 

Zolf knows exactly how he got here. He’s working more or less as a secret agent. Wilde keeps them off the map. It’s how they had to stay safe. And this means avoiding a lot of heavily populated areas. So when they did travel, it was with limited resources. Which had been fine when they had been sailing: Zolf once sailed a piece of driftwood across the channel. Nothing could be more limited than that.

Only now, months into working and traveling together, here they are: faced with a singular gigantic horse and a two days ride. Wilde, the six foot asshole, looked well pleased with the draft horse, named Maron. And she was beautiful: deep brown, kind eyes, and overall relaxed demeanour. The gnome at the stable was apologetic. They were covered in fine jewelry and rings in their hair and beards, like all the gnomes Zolf had encountered so far.

Zolf tries really hard not to stare. He’s pretty sure he’s staring. It’s a clear cultural difference, obviously. Gnomes in Japan have a much more casual relationship to giving and trading beads. That’s fine. 

Zolf has known for a while that he won’t be getting married. He used to daydream, like many young dwarves, of a lover presenting a golden ring for his beard. The love and devotion shown in selecting the ring. Zolf has been growing out his beard solely for ease, solely because he needed a change. 

Besides, he already has more than he thought he would. Wilde is there everyday, even when Zolf is struggling to get out of bed, even when Zolf stumbles over his words, even when Zolf has so much blood on his hands. He likes Wilde. He likes Wilde’s passion and dedication. He’s gotten used to being frustrated by the man, when he turns his emotions off, when he forgets to eat or sleep. Wilde has been Zolf’s north star for over a year now. He’d rather die than give that up. (Though he’s prepared to. They are at war.) 

He can appreciate the comfort without making it about longing. Being surrounded by beautiful artisans and intricate jewelry that feels like home, but a bit to the left. The first time he saw a gnome remove a gold bead from their beard to buy groceries, he felt overwhelmed. But he was determined to adjust, to get used to it. 

This is his life now. He’s going to make it work. His feelings for WIlde be damned. 

“We need to make quick progress,” Wilde says to the gnome. “Will she be able to carry both of us?” The gnome looks between Zolf and Wilde at least twice, more than a little suspiciously. 

“For the first day, yes, as long as she gets plenty of rest after.” 

Zolf couldn’t even see over the horse. Sighing. “Alright, Wilde, give me a boost.” 

Wilde barely touches him, just makes a step with his hands for Zolf, lifting the dwarf, and Zolf is left to grab hold of the saddle and pull himself on. Wilde, an asshole, swung himself into the saddle behind Zolf without even breaking a sweat. He reaches his arms around Zolf to grab the reins, his chest against Zolf’s back through layers of armour and clothes. 

And Zolf goes very still. 

“Are you alright?” Wilde asked. 

“ Course, you just surprised me.” 

“We are sharing a horse, Mr. Smith,” Wilde replied, somehow sounding both shit eating and sincere. Like he cared about Zolf or his boundaries. 

Brave new world, he thinks to himself. 

As far as Wilde was concerned, Zolf is obsessed with the beard and hair jewelry all the gnomes seemed to sport. He’s not latching onto this fact out of desperation for anything normal, feeling out of his depth beyond belief. Frankly, it’s very cute. Oscar would never tease Zolf about his obvious fascination. Gods know Zolf has spent a very long time around humans, he deserves to take comfort in a culture more similar to his own. 

Oscar is just, well, easily distracted. There’s a routine now, in the end of the world. He has a purpose and a plan, and even though things have fallen apart, it’s somehow simpler than before. He would never say that he’s bored, but dread is monotonous. 

And Zolf is very close. 

For the Wilde he used to be, that would be enough. But Zolf was in his life, grumpily and reluctantly for so long, that Wilde didn’t know how to think about the dwarf until Zolf had become the most important person in his life. 

This is how he justified buying Zolf the jewelry. It’s common to see gnomes trading them, and really, he’s on the lookout for something big enough to fit nicely on Zolf’s beard. He’s not expecting him to wear it, but if Zolf wants to, it should be nice. Despite how reticent Zolf is, he knows the dwarf hasn’t had enough nice things in his life. 

The ring he eventually settles on is a deep gold, with a nicely cut emerald. And then it sits in the quality canvas bag, in Wilde’s own pocket for several days. 

And then they’re on a horse together. The rain is just a little too loud to have any sustained conversation. Which means Wilde is just left to his own thoughts. 

This is not how Wilde expected to have Zolf in his arms. He doesn’t want to do anything untoward. He can’t help but notice how sturdy Zolf is, how warm and soft. He doesn’t want to think about how it would feel to tuck Zolf’s head under his own. He isn’t proud of how sometimes he’ll rest his forearms, holding loosely to the reign, on Zolf’s thighs, and if he thinks about that it short circuits his damn brain. 

So they ride on, and it’s a very long day, and Wilde wants to tuck these memories in a jewelry box, safe and treasured. He wishes he could do the same with Zolf, even just for a moment. 

  
  


It’s raining. It’s always raining. And there are no places to stay. There is, fortunately, a decent shelter from a small grove of trees. Zolf starts a fire, Wilde looks on longingly. Zolf really has no idea what to say. It had been a few months of Wilde adjusting to non magical life before they reconnected. Wilde had relearnt his own makeup and grooming, even if he couldn’t hide how gaunt and tired he’d become. 

Even in his worst moments, Zolf had his magic. It didn’t make sense, and he didn’t always want it, but the part of him that clung to survival regardless of anything else wanted him alive so badly that he always felt that spark. 

Wilde still has his words, and Zolf would give anything to hear the man sing, even if he’d never heard it until calm circumstances. Zolf wouldn’t ask that of the Wilde under normal circumstances, and it would be cruel to ask him when the magic that should underlie them was out of Wilde’s reach. 

Wilde shivers slightly. The man is still too thin as far as Zolf’s concerned. He wants the relief of arriving somewhere they can really make a proper base, somewhere Zolf cooks regular meals, a place to wake up in repeatedly. Tomorrow. In the meantime: “Are you alright Wilde?” 

Wilde tries to say “Of course,” but his teeth chatter halfway through, giving him away. 

“C’mere,” Zolf said. “Turnabout is fair play.” He wasn’t sure if it was the firelight but he could have sworn he saw Wilde flush. 

“Are you sure?”

“Course, can’t have you freezing on me when we’re this close to a base of our own.” 

That seems to restart something in Wilde, who comes in closer and lets Zolf wrap his arms around. The dumb bard is very cold, but nice to hold regardless. Wilde relaxes slightly into him, and it was comforting to take on his weight. Wilde smells like their campfire, and a bit like horses and sweat, but under that, his soap. He likes sandalwood and rose, common enough scents. Zolf likes it on him. He isn’t going to say anything, but instead casts a small healing spell, mostly for fortification than anything else. 

“Thanks,” Wilde mutters. “This is nice.” 

“Anytime, Wilde.” He replies. It is nice. Nicer than Zolf knows what to do with. “I’m glad you’re here. Under the circumstances.” 

“Are you saying you wouldn’t be here if the world hadn’t ended?” Wilde asks, and even though Zolf can’t see his face, he can hear the joking smile in Wilde’s voice. 

“I think you’ve won me over, Oscar,” he replies, mostly into Wilde’s dumb neck. “Nothing will go back to how it was, but I’m actually okay with this one.” Wilde shifts in his arms, and Zolf loosens his grip on the man. 

“Sorry,” Oscar says. “I just, I have something for you.” And then pulls out a ring, perfectly sized to wear on his beard. Zolf’s brain breaks for a long few seconds, and when he is able to focus again, Oscar is babbling. 

“- I just saw you admiring all the gnomes in town and I thought it would be nice for you to have something not, painfully human for once. You don’t have to wear it, I don’t want to presume. I just thought it would be nice.” 

Zolf blinks.  _ Nice.  _ The stupid bastard proposed and didn’t even know. Right. 

“It’s very nice, Oscar.” Skills he hadn’t used in decades kick back in. The emerald is a phenomenal cut and the gold has been freshly polished. A younger Zolf would have cried or perhaps had his own ring to present a partner. At the very least, there would have been kissing. 

But he was this Zolf. And what he has with Oscar is special. He won’t be mucking it up now. 

“I’ll wear it.” Zolf finally says. “Thank you, Oscar.” Perhaps there is too much emotion in his voice, but it’s like he gets proposed to everyday. That would have been Wilde, once. And he slips the ring on his beard, securing it the way he had been taught. 

“It suits you,” Oscar says even though there was no way for him to know between the low firelight and awkward angle. “I’m glad.” Oscar doesn’t know what’s next, it’s sweet, when it’s over something like this. 

“C’mere Wilde. We’re almost out of the woods. Can’t let you freeze to death when we’re nearly there.” So, Oscar curls in closer, and Zolf holds him just as tight. The rain echoes through the trees and for a moment, Zolf despite it all, can’t think of a place he’d rather be. 

**Author's Note:**

> Why are they like this? (I wrote them and I'm angry) 
> 
> I've made this a series because these two are going to ruin my life and I'm going to let them. Also I'm sure at some point this will get contradicted by canon but until we get an explanation about the ring, I can dream!!!


End file.
